


The Man Underneath

by maraudersaffair



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Aurors, Canon-Typical Violence, Disability, Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, M/M, Prostitution, Rimming, Secret Snarry Swap 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-01
Packaged: 2019-02-08 19:17:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12871242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudersaffair/pseuds/maraudersaffair
Summary: Severus is a secret Auror and must always be disguised. When Harry Potter becomes his new partner, Severus struggles hiding his true identity and burning attraction.





	The Man Underneath

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my beta!
> 
> Prompt 23 from hayyel1: Due to his work, Severus needs to be constantly disguised and undercover. His next mission puts him in the path of Harry, and he slowly starts falling for him.

Severus wasn’t a secret agent. He was just a man who put on a disguise every day before going to work. He dealt in secrets. He held them close like a hand of cards. This was something he was used to. 

What he wasn’t used to was working for the Ministry. When Shacklebolt had offered him the job a few months after the war, Severus had been suspicious. _It’s a trap_ , his mind supplied. _They want to pin you with something. You will never be safe from Azkaban._

He was in another Ministry meeting. He wore his disguise, so he nodded and smiled as the Aurors gave background on his next mission. He was sure people would faint if they ever saw Severus Snape smile and nod, but his new face probably looked friendly and engaged.

The door opened, and a young man slipped in. 

“I’m sure no introduction is needed for this one,” Robards said, laughing gruffly. 

It was Potter. Ever since Potter had joined the Aurors five years ago, Severus had known this was coming. He was honestly surprised it’d taken so long.

“Sorry I’m late. My other meeting ran over.” Potter sat down across the table. 

Robards motioned to Severus. “This is Toby Gale.” (Severus definitely _did not_ pick this name; it’d been randomly selected for him.)

Potter politely nodded. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yes, you too,” Severus whispered. His voice always lowered when he was nervous.

He hated to admit it: Potter was fit. Very fit. The big-headed bastard. It’d been a good seven years since they’d last seen each other, and Potter had grown up. Of course he was now taller than Severus, his shoulders broader, his face thinner. There was just the shadow of lines around his mouth, along his forehead. He still wore his stupid glasses, but those eyes were the same. Such a mesmerizing shade of green. Severus would never get over looking at them.

Severus slid him a copy of the meeting’s agenda. 

“Thanks,” Potter said, and gave him a lopsided smile.

Severus stared. Potter had never smiled at him like that. His stomach fluttered. _Fuck._ He kept on staring, and Potter’s expression flickered. 

_You have to say something_ , he reminded himself. Right. What did one say when being thanked by a stranger?

“You are welcome,” he answered.

“We’re dealing with a nasty situation, gentlemen.” Robards flicked his wand and mugshots of three wizards appeared on the board. “We know these _upstanding_ citizens are involved in a prostitution ring. We even know the location of this ring. What we don’t know is how to get to these men without getting anyone killed or maimed.” His wand moved again, and a photograph of a posh nightclub appeared. “These blokes aren’t amateurs. We try to do anything inside this place—make an arrest, conduct a raid, even try to get a few of the men and women out—they will blow the whole building up.”

Potter frowned. “How do we know that for sure?”

Robards grinned darkly. “Did you hear about the explosion that killed all those Brazilian Aurors?”

“Bloody hell,” Severus muttered.

Another wand flick and a Muggle newscast was projected on the board. The anchor was speaking Portuguese but you got the general idea when the news segment cut to footage of a building exploding. Christ.

Potter whistled. “Those suspects on the board earlier. Are they responsible for what happened in Brazil?”

“Yes, and we know at least one resides in Britain now.” A mugshot of a man with the face like a bulldog appeared on the screen. “His name is Joao Crowley. He was born in Brazil, but he spent most of his life in Britain.”

“Is he really connected to that nightclub in the photograph?” Severus asked.

Robards nodded. “Yes. He’s the owner.” The room was silent; everyone seemed to be too shocked to speak. Robards took a deep breath. “Needless to say, the execution of this mission needs to be damn near perfect, or else you might end up like our Brazilian mates.”

“What’s the first step?” Potter raised his chin, his eyes all stubborn determination. It took Severus a long time to figure out that Potter had that expression when he was trying to be brave and a do-gooder, not when he wanted to be challenging or pigheaded.

Robards pointed to a teetering stack of files. “You two need to read all that. Sleep on it. Digest the information. Then read it all again. You will need to know this case like the grooves in your wand.”

Severus nodded, but Potter frowned at the files. It was obvious that he wanted to act now, not sit behind his desk for a few days _reading_.

Robards and the other Aurors left. Potter sighed. “I guess we should just crack on with it.”

“Yes.” Severus wanted to roll his eyes at Potter’s unwillingness to do preliminary research, but he also didn’t want to get on Potter’s bad side. He’d spent too many years pissing off people and having to deal with the consequences afterward. 

They went to the stack of files. Severus flipped through the top ones, hoping they were in some sort of order. He snorted. Of course they weren’t.

“What?” Potter asked.

“They aren’t organized.”

“Fuck,” he muttered.

Severus blinked. There was something alarming about hearing Potter curse. He had the biggest urge to reprimand him for it. _Fifty points from Gryffindor, Potter_ , he’d say. _You will not use such language around me._

Potter was looking at him. “You’re wearing a disguise, aren’t you?”

“Pardon me?” His stomach did a queasy flip. 

“Robards warned me. You are one of our secret Aurors.”

He wanted to deny it. He didn’t want Potter to know _anything_ about him. “Yes, this is a disguise.”

“Wow.” Potter leaned closer. “Is it Polyjuice or a charm?”

Severus jerked back. Potter was wearing a nice cologne. “I can’t tell you.”

“Oh.” He thumbed through a file. “That makes sense.” He sighed again. “Let’s take these back to my office. I’m sure Robards will want this room back.”

“Okay,” Severus said, and once again his voice was barely above a whisper. His stomach was queasy again, but he ignored it. There was nothing to be nervous about. Absolutely nothing.

They minimized the files and Potter held them carefully in his hand as they moved down the hallway to a small and dreadfully untidy office. 

“Sorry about the mess . . .”

But Severus was already clearing off the desk with his wand, all the papers stacking up neatly, the old mugs soaring to the kitchen, the broken quills ending up in the bin and the salvageable ones ending up in the drawer.

“Wow, thanks!” Potter cleaned up the mug rings and splattered ink with a _Scourgify_. He rubbed the back of his neck. “You should teach me that spell because this place can get a bit chaotic.”

“A bit?”

Potter laughed. “Yeah . . . maybe more than a bit . . .” He placed the files on the desk and spelled them back to normal size.

The office was filled with Gryffindor tokens and photographs of Quidditch teams. There was a well-used broom propped up in a corner, many of its bristles like gnarled fingers. 

Severus took a seat and grabbed for the top file. He cast a _Lumos_ with his wand so he could see the tiny print. “We should go through the first twenty, maybe thirty, and figure out how to organize these.” He looked up at Potter. “Do you have space in your filing cabinet?”

Potter sucked his cheek. “Not really. I’ll request another one to be sent up.”

“Don’t bother.” He went over to the cabinet to enlarge the drawers. 

Potter rubbed the back of his neck again. “Thanks. Sometimes it really shows that I was raised by Muggles.”

 _Sometimes?_ He went back to his seat and his file. Potter took up the chair opposite him. Severus did his best not to glance at Potter as he made his way through the files, but he felt Potter’s presence like a heat, and he just wanted to look.

A few hours passed. Each file mostly centered on one of the three suspects, so they decided to organize the stack into piles about each man. Though his disguise was young and fit, Severus wasn’t, and his back ached from sitting for so long. He stood and stretched, then cast another cushioning charm.

Potter stood as well and stretched his arms above his head, revealing a taut stomach with a scatter of dark hair. Severus looked away.

“I’m starved.” Potter checked the time. “Do you want lunch? I’m thinking about going to the cafeteria.”

Severus wanted to say no, but he was hungry, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to concentrate if he didn’t eat now. It would also be weird for him to not eat with Potter. Toby Gale should be delighted to eat with the Chosen One.

“Good idea.” He followed Potter from the office to the lift, which was crowded with tired Ministry officials and fluttering memos. They had to squeeze in close, and once again Severus smelled Potter’s cologne. The scent made him think of businessmen with expensive watches and greased hair, not scruffy schoolboys with ink on their noses and sweaty socks.

The cafeteria was dark and crowded. They joined the queue for soup and coffee. They didn’t speak, but it wasn’t uncomfortable since they’d been working in silence all morning.

Potter poured each a cup of coffee, then Severus ladled them two bowls of French onion soup. They paid separately, and found a small table in the corner, their coffee and soup bobbling along after them. 

A gas lamp flickered above their heads, casting Potter’s face in shadows. He looked like he had the night of the Final Battle, when Severus almost bled out on the shack’s floor. Severus gulped and concentrated on his soup.

“Do you like working for the Ministry?” Potter asked.

Severus blinked. He wondered if he should be honest. “Sometimes. I mostly like the security.”

“Security?” Potter smiled a little. “You think being an Auror is secure?”

Severus shrugged. “If you knew about some of the jobs I had before, then you’d understand.”

“Now I want to ask what jobs you had before.”

“Don’t. I would be forced to lie.”

“Oh.” Potter frowned. “I guess that makes sense.”

Severus finished up his soup and coffee. He waited for Potter to do the same before taking their dishes to the wash bin. Potter smiled his thanks and followed him back to the office.

They spent the rest of the workday making their way through the files. Severus took notes on a long roll of parchment, his mind already whirling with strategies. Every now and then he caught himself staring into the suspects’ smirking faces, and he sneered. God, he hated criminals. Tough men. Murderers. He’d once been one of them, and he’d paid dearly. Criminals were just so damn _selfish_.

“Merlin.” Potter twisted in his chair, trying to crack his back. Their candles had burned low, and Severus’ head throbbed from straining his eyes for so long. 

Severus smirked. It was funny to hear Potter use a wizard expletive. He’d arrived at Hogwarts without knowing a damn thing about their world, and now look at him. 

“What?” Potter grinned.

“Nothing.” He forced all expression from his face. He stood. “It’s time for me to go.”

“Yeah, me too.” Potter went to a wardrobe in the corner and shouldered on his Auror robes. 

“Are you going somewhere important?”

“No—not really.”

Severus frowned. He didn’t want Potter to do anything about the case without him. “I hope you’re not thinking about going to that nightclub alone.”

“What? No way.” Potter shook his head. “I’m wearing my Auror robes for personal reasons.”

Right. He had a date or something, and he wanted to impress the woman. Severus was not going to ask any more questions.

Severus took a deep breath. He had to remain casual, professional, but all he wanted to do was sneer and roll his eyes. Instead he smiled a little, and he had no idea what Gale’s face looked like.

“See you tomorrow.” He escaped to the hallway. He thought he saw Potter wave to him, and it made him a bit queasy again. 

He rushed to the lift, not daring to look back. He was desperate to get home, to take off his disguise. He’d pour himself some whiskey and toast to Albus. He’d drink until he closed his eyes and thought of absolutely nothing.

*

After a week of reading through the files, drinking tea during breaks, wandering down to the cafeteria together for lunch, Potter said, “I think we are ready.”

Severus nodded. “Yes.” He wanted to rest his head on the desk and sigh deeply, but his Death Eater days had drilled into him to never show physical weakness, so instead he blinked hard and gritted his teeth against a yawn.

“Let’s go to dinner. What do you say?” Potter said.

Severus tried hard not to stare. Never in a million years did he think Harry Potter would ever ask him to _dinner_. Like they were mates. Like he didn’t _loathe_ old Professor Snape.

 _He wants to be around Gale, not_ me, he thought. _I can’t forget this._

A rejection was on the tip of Severus’ tongue, but then he looked into Potter’s hopeful gaze. “Okay.”

Potter smiled. “Brilliant. Do you care where we go?”

“No.” It had been a long, long time since he’d sought out food that he liked. Stress had made him forget about a lot of his pleasures.

Potter cocked his head. “How do you feel about Pho?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Brilliant,” Potter repeated, smiling wider. He once again shouldered on his Auror robes, his back rippling. He had a very nice back. He probably did pushups with his shirt off, his teeth gritted in effort, his skin slick with sweat.

Severus turned away.

“Ready?”

He nodded and followed Potter from the office. They made their way up to ground level in comfortable silence. When they hit the street, Severus blinked and pulled his cloak tighter against himself. It was very dark, the light poles only casting a dim yellow.

“Don’t you hate it when you waste the whole day in the Ministry?” Potter said.

“Yes.” He sighed quietly. “It’s like a whole other world in there.”

Potter nodded. “Do you mind going to a Muggle restaurant?”

Severus frowned. “In your Auror robes?”

“No, I don’t think we could get away with it.” Potter touched his shoulder and waved him into a darkened archway. They stood close together. “Let’s change them now.” Potter slipped off the robes, but even his tunic underneath wasn’t appropriate for a Muggle setting.

Severus shivered. He pressed closer without thinking about it. He knew what Potter was talking about, but he imagined sneaking glances as Potter undressed completely next to him. Christ. He was a sodding old pervert.

“I can just do you,” Potter said, and dragged his wand over Severus’ shoulders, chest, down his thighs. Potter wasn’t seeing Severus’ body; he was seeing someone fit and young and _open_.

“There,” Potter said, sounding a bit strange. 

Severus examined the trousers and jumper Potter had Transfigured. “Very good. Now let me do you.” He suppressed another shiver as his wand mimicked Potter’s. He thought hard. He remembered a pair of jeans and a band t-shirt that Potter had worn more than once. 

He bit his lip in concentration, and he spent a few minutes adding details to his creation. When he looked up, he found Potter gazing intently at him.

“Wow,” Potter said, examining his new clothes. “You even got the fading right.”

Severus smirked. “It was quite easy.”

Potter matched his smirk, and it was almost _seductive_. “You’re a very powerful wizard.”

Severus stepped back into the open. “Let’s get to this restaurant.”

“All right,” Potter said easily.

Though the night was a bit chilly, it wasn’t raining, which was always a blessing. They walked in silence once again and Potter was too busy people watching to talk to Severus.

The city buzzed with life, businessmen and tourists streaming past. Severus would never get over just how much rubbish Muggles accumulated, their plastic bags and fizzy drink cans dotting the parks and gardens like alien foliage.

They arrived at the restaurant, and Severus snorted at its neon name: _Pho Time!_ Harry shook his head and held open the door for him.

Inside the decorations were a strange mix of holiday lights, vague Asian art, and presumably whatever the previous owners had left behind. A Christmas tree blinked in the corner (even though it was September), on the counter perched a maneki-neko statue, and the walls contained several awkward paintings of Elvis Presley.

“Charming,” Severus muttered, allowing himself to sneer.

Potter laughed again. They nabbed an open booth in the back and a waiter came to take their drink orders. 

“Coffee,” Severus said, and Potter’s eyes lit up.

“Brilliant idea. Coffee for me, too.” When the waiter left, Potter rubbed his hands together. “So. Pho is a soup.”

“I figured.” Severus flipped through the menu filled with various pictures of steaming bowls. There were so many options. “What do you usually get?”

“It depends. I usually like getting number seven. It has a combination of steak and brisket.”

“Hmm.” He searched the menu for the spiciest soup. “I think I’ll get number twelve.”

Potter’s eyes widened. “It has four chili peppers next to it. Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Severus smiled a little.

Potter shrugged. “It’s your funeral.” Severus carefully slid the menu to the edge of the table. Sometimes Potter said things that reminded Severus that he was only a few years out of Hogwarts. He didn’t want to be reminded of the boy who sat in his class, of the boy he _hated_.

Their coffee arrived then, and they both drank it black. He wondered if Potter didn’t add any milk or sugar because he was there. It was definitely something a young man would do.

They gave their soup orders to the waiter. Potter stared at a Muggle next to them. The Muggle was typing on a plastic box with a telly screen. Severus knew this was a new computer, small and innovative, nothing like the computers from his childhood that took up entire rooms. 

“Have you forgotten what it was like to live with Muggles?”

Potter frowned a little, and Severus cursed silently. “You must’ve read a lot about me.”

“The media’s love affair with you is hard to miss.” He sounded too bitter.

Potter laughed. “I guess you’re right. It’s nothing but lies.”

“How difficult for you.” _Don’t sneer._

“Terribly difficult. Sometimes I even doubt they have my best interests at heart.”

Severus laughed. It was sharp, sudden, uncontrollable. Potter grinned, obviously pleased that Gale had liked his joke.

Merlin. Potter had made him laugh. What was the world coming to? His chest was tight, and it felt as if he was waiting for some invisible blow. 

“I want to know more about you,” Potter said.

He shook his head. “Best to not ask.”

“Why not? You could lie and I wouldn’t even know.”

“Hmm. Good point.”

Potter leaned forward. “So,” he said, his voice lowering conspiratorially, “how old are you?”

Severus snorted. Of course that was his first question. “I’m old enough to be your father.”

Potter frowned. “Really?”

“Perhaps.” He smirked. “Or maybe I’m younger than you. Maybe we went to Hogwarts together and I spent my school years thinking of the heroic Harry Potter like a big brother.”

“You are loving this. You just want to fuck with me.”

Severus’ stomach clenched. Again, he didn’t think he’d ever get over Potter cursing around him, especially when he used the word _fuck_. 

“I don’t want to fuck with you.” Severus sipped his coffee.

“Yes, you do.” Potter was grinning again, and his eyes were very bright behind his glasses. “I’m game, though. Do what you want with me.” He leaned back and spread his legs, his foot touching Severus’. 

Severus moved his feet away. His heart was pounding. _Stop it._ The last thing he needed was to blush. Potter was no match for him. Severus could handle this situation. Potter was a _child_.

“What else do you want to know about me?” Severus asked lightly.

“Are you married?”

“No.”

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No.”

“Who do you live with?”

“No one.”

“Where do you live?”

“London.”

Potter blinked. “Really?”

“No.”

Potter sighed. “Do you have any pets?”

“God, no.”

“What do you like to do in your free time?”

“Oh.” Severus didn’t know what to say. He should just make something up. “I like to brew potions.” _Idiot._

Potter raised his eyebrows. “You like to brew potions in your free time?”

“No, that’s another lie.” _Think. Control your breathing._ “I like to . . . play Quidditch. Listen to the wireless.”

Potter seemed unsure. He studied Severus for a moment. “You are a very frustrating man.”

“Maybe I’m not a man at all.”

“I wouldn’t care.” Potter fiddled with his coffee cup. He looked at Severus almost shyly. “Honestly. I wouldn’t.”

Severus stared down at his tanned hands. Many emotions whirled inside him, and he read them all as anger. Of course Potter wouldn’t mind. He’d probably love for his partner to have tits and a fanny. More for the taking. He probably shagged all the women he worked with. Why wouldn’t he? He was sodding _Harry Potter_.

Severus wanted to leave. It was a mistake to come here in the first place. All he had to do was remain professional and get through this mission with Potter. Then he would never have to think about Potter ever again.

The waiter dropped off their Pho. Potter sipped his and groaned. “So good,” he said.

Severus let the steam cloud his face. He tried some of his own and nodded in approval. “Yes, this is very good.” He added some jalapenos and hot sauce to his bowl.

Potter’s eyes widened. “How is your stomach not on fire?”

Severus smirked. “Practice.”

They ate their Pho with little talking, Potter struggling with his chopsticks and Severus using a fork to eat the noodles like spaghetti. Potter kept on dropping his piece of meat before he could take a bite, which made Severus laugh again. 

“ _Fine_ ,” Potter said, and took up a fork as well. “The owners probably laugh at anyone who uses a fork.”

“They are just happy to have customers.”

Potter nodded, looking thoughtful.

Then came the tricky business of drinking the both. Potter tried drinking straight from the bowl but the broth spilled down his front. “Ugh!”

Severus snickered and tried not to stare at Potter’s glistening chin and neck. Learning from Potter’s mistake, he took the time to finish his broth off with help from a spoon. 

“Wasn’t that good?” Potter’s face was flushed from the soup.

Severus nodded. “Yes. I’m glad you introduced me to it.”

They went up front to pay and then left. They paused on the street, the air mistier and cooler than when they went inside. It would probably rain overnight. 

Potter licked his lips and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “So. Tomorrow.”

“We go to the nightclub.”

“Right. We’re ready.” His voice had hardened.

“We are.”

“All that’s left to do is get a good night’s sleep.”

“Yes.” He imagined Potter getting ready for bed: slipping off his clothes, removing his glasses and setting them on his bedside table, perhaps casting an alarm charm to wake him up in the morning.

There were a lot of pedestrians on the footpath, and they were forced to move closer together. Maybe it was nothing but awkward hesitation, but they both seemed reluctant to say goodbye. Severus looked at Potter, waiting for him to be the first to sneak off to an alley to Disapparate, but Potter just gazed back and smiled. 

_Should I shake his hand? Pat him on the back and reassure him that tomorrow would be successful?_

Then, stupidly, he imagined kissing Potter goodbye. He couldn’t block out the image. He saw himself leaning forward, pausing to search Potter’s face for consent, before brushing his lips against Potter’s. Chaste. Gentle. Nothing too provocative. 

_Bloody stop it._ He jerked away, and was mortified to realize that he in fact had been leaning forward because their faces had been entirely too close.

“Goodnight,” Severus said gruffly, and then fled. He thought he heard Potter say something to him, but he didn’t dare look back. He had no idea what the hell was going on with him. It’d been ages since he’d imagined kissing anyone.

*

The next day Severus and Potter were restless in the lead up to their undercover visit to the nightclub. They spent the day in the Department of Mysteries getting Potter fitted with a disguise of his own. No way could Harry Potter, renowned boy hero and now committed Auror, stroll into the location of a prostitution ring without earning a huge target on his back.

In Potter’s office they stood in front of a mirror that Severus had Conjured up. Severus blinked. When he looked directly at Potter, Potter appeared exactly the same, but his reflection proved otherwise.

“The spell work is impressive,” Severus said, shaking his head.

“Yeah it is.” Potter fiddled with his plum tunic. To everyone except Severus, he looked like a blond man with deep-set hazel eyes and a large mouth. “What should my name be?”

“Something a dunderhead would be called.”

“ _Dunderhead?_ ” Potter smiled at him, his eyes questioning. “I haven’t heard someone use that word in such a long time.”

 _Shite._ “Oh?” he said nonchalantly. 

“Yeah. My old Potions professor used to call us dunderheads all the time.” Potter gazed unseeing at the wall. 

_Old._

Severus forced his face to go blank. “You’re talking about Severus Snape. I heard about his role in the war.” It’d be suspicious if he pretended not to know about something that’d been splashed throughout the _Prophet_ for months.

Potter nodded but didn’t say anything. He stared at the wall for a little longer, then he turned back to Severus and smiled again. “Ready?”

“Yes,” Severus said. Potter started for the door, but Severus grabbed his shoulder. “Just to be clear: We are merely looking around tonight. If you see a crime or anyone getting hurt, you must not interfere.” 

Potter frowned. He seemed on the verge of protesting but then something in his face hardened. “Yeah. You’re right. I promise not to interfere.”

“Good.” He released Potter but his hand tingled from the touch.

“My name is . . . Bill Dunder.”

Severus snorted. “Why not just Dunderhead?”

Potter rolled his eyes. “You’d love that. I can see you yelling for me: ‘Dunderhead! Look out!’”

“It’s better than . . . Patrick Prat . . . or Ben Bugger or Paul Prick . . .”

“I get it, but I’m still going by Bill Dunder.”

Severus shrugged and tried to hide a smile. “Suit yourself.”

They ventured up to the departing corridor and nodded to each other before Disapparating. When Severus appeared outside the club, he patted his side for his wand, reassuring himself. He took a deep breath and forced himself to focus. The time had come. He couldn’t fuck this up.

Next to him Potter gazed up at the flashing neon sign solemnly. “How many unsuspecting blokes have gone here for some fun without realizing the people inside had no choice?”

“They probably didn’t even care.”

Potter looked at him, his expression quite bleak. “I refuse to believe that.”

Severus shrugged, but Potter’s words made him pensive. _Focus._

The nightclub was a dark building with Victorian eaves but shiny metal windows and a frosted glass entrance. Severus heard the soft thump of party music. 

They went up the short stairs and Potter gave the secret three quick knocks, pause, then another three knocks. Two large blokes opened the door, and they reminded Severus of Death Eaters.

The blokes looked them over but didn’t say anything.

Potter cleared his throat. “We heard this is where we can have a good time.” His voice shook from nervousness, and Severus thought it was a good choice.

“Are you Muggles?”

“No,” Potter said, and showed his wand. Severus did the same.

“Hundred Galleons to enter.”

“A _hundred_? What does that include?” Potter said.

“Nothing.” The bloke smirked. “This isn’t the place for you if you’re counting your Knuts.”

Potter smirked faintly. “Oh, I’m not.” He turned to Gale. “Are you?”

Severus smiled. “Of course not.”

The bloke snorted and held out his meaty hand. Potter dropped a money bag into his palm. “We can wait while you count it.”

“No need.” The bag disappeared into the bloke’s robes. “We always get our money in the end.”

Potter gulped visibly. “We understand.”

The bloke stepped aside and Potter and Severus went inside. Severus thought the bloke would stay at the door, but he followed them into the nightclub.

The interior wasn’t as posh as Severus expected. There was something cheap in the glow in the dark accents and countless stripper poles. The music was definitely annoying.

“For five hundred more, I will show you what’s in the back,” the bloke said.

Potter’s eyes went wide. “ _Five hundred?_ I don’t think we brought that much.”

The bloke shrugged. “Too bad.”

“I think we brought . . . three hundred,” Severus said.

The bloke smirked. “Perhaps I can make something happen for three fifty.”

Potter and Severus grinned at each other. “Okay,” Potter said.

They weaved around some spindly tables, and the other patrons were mostly middle-aged men. The bloke tapped his wand on a door. A moment later the door snapped open.

Before they could step inside, the bloke grabbed Severus’ shoulder. “The money first.”

“Right.” Severus dug into his pocket and gave the bloke his own bag of galleons. “There’s three hundred in there.”

“And I have the other fifty.” Potter gave him the rest. 

“Ta,” the bloke said, still smirking. “Go inside and enjoy yourselves.”

They stepped through the doorway, blinking against the gloom. There was laughter and the smell of something sweet, but Severus couldn’t see anything.

“Welcome, gentlemen,” said a silky voice.

They were in a tiny foyer and a woman waited for them. Her robes were elegant, but there was something cruel about her face.

“Hello,” Potter said hesitantly.

“What is it you two desire?” The woman smiled naughtily. 

“Err,” Potter said, and looked to Severus. 

“What do you have to offer?”

“Everything.” She arched an eyebrow. “Will you two be enjoying yourself separately or together?”

“Together,” Potter said.

Severus’ stomach fluttered. The last thing they wanted was to be separated, but he was nervous to be with Potter in any sort of sexual situation.

“How about you show us around?” Potter said.

The woman smiled again. “No.”

For the first time Severus remembered that this building could explode if they made a wrong move. He wondered if the woman knew that. Maybe that was why the bosses could trust her not to betray them.

His shoulders were tense, the back of his neck itching. He wanted to just get this over with.

“We want a woman,” he said gruffly. “Somebody experienced. Somebody who can handle both of us.”

The woman’s eyes glittered. “I know just the girl.” She sauntered closer, and Severus saw that her face was leathery underneath her makeup. She produced a vial and handed it to Potter. “Drink up.”

Potter took the vial with a confused smile. “What is it?”

The woman smirked. “Something to make you really have some fun.”

 _Don’t drink it._ Potter shrugged and tipped the liquid into his mouth. Christ.

“Follow me,” the woman said.

They went through another door. The corridor was quite dark as well, but Severus’ eyes had got used to the gloom. There was a little girl sitting in a chair beside a door, waiting for something. Her clothes were disheveled and her eyes were empty. Severus wanted to vomit.

They went through another corridor. The woman stopped abruptly at a door and knocked. She let them into the room.

“Enjoy,” she said, closing the door behind them.

The woman’s idea of “experienced” was a girl who looked barely fourteen. Her face was covered in thick makeup, her mouth cartoonish with big red lips. 

“Hello, boys,” she said from the bed, spreading her legs. “I’m ready to be filled up.”

Severus glanced at Potter, wondering how he was reacting. Potter was sweating, his face flushed alarmingly. 

“I don’t feel so great,” Potter said.

“You drank the potion, didn’t you?” The girl laughed.

“What does the potion do?” Severus asked.

“You’ll see.” The girl crawled across the bed on all fours, ogling Potter. “I’ve been a bad girl, Daddy.”

“Fuck.” Potter was pulling at his robes. “I can’t breathe. It’s too hot in here.”

“Bill.” Severus reached out to him but Potter stumbled back. “Are you all right? Do we need to leave?”

“You should leave before it gets worse,” the girl said.

“What’s worse?” Severus said, but the girl just laughed again.

“I can’t think—I need—” Potter stumbled to the door and his magic forced it open.

“The exit’s to the right!” called the girl.

Somehow they found their way outside. Potter leaned against the alley wall, panting. “We’ve been tricked.”

“Why?” Severus was scared. He wanted to leave the area as quickly as possible.

Potter flapped his hand. “I need to get home. I think I have the strength to get us there.”

Severus gulped. “Okay.” He grabbed Potter’s arm, which made Potter suck in breath. He was about seventy percent sure they were about to get Splinched. “Is this okay?”

Potter nodded. “Yes. Let’s just go.”

They spun and Disapparated. They reappeared in a seating area right off a hallway. Severus blinked. He’d never seen this part before.

“God,” Potter said, leaning against the wall again. He wiped at his forehead. “What a mess.” 

Severus was angry. “Why would you drink something they gave you!”

“I had no other choice! It would’ve made them suspicious if I refused to drink it!”

Severus worked his mouth, too distraught to speak. He feared casting any spells on Potter. He mulled over any antidotes, but criminals were tricky these days. One wrong move, and he might _kill_ Potter.

Potter leaned against the wall, panting, his face flushed and gleaming with sweat. Severus was scared, very scared. He felt himself freezing, not really knowing what to do. _Goddammit. Think._

“I need . . . I need to be alone,” Potter managed to say.

“All right.” Severus grabbed his arm to help him to the bedroom. Potter cried out and jerked away.

“No—don’t touch—”

“Christ,” Severus muttered.

Potter wiped at his forehead again. “I’ll just go into my bedroom for a moment. You . . . occupy yourself . . . if you don’t mind. I have a library.” He stumbled to his room and slammed the door shut.

Severus spent a good minute blinking at nothing. He used to be a man of action, but now he had no idea what to do. Was it the right choice to leave Potter alone? Should he pound on the door and demand that Potter come out so Severus could treat him in some way?

He went to the bedroom. The hallway was dark, a faint light streaming at his feet. He put his ear to the door, listening hard. Potter was whimpering and cursing under his breath. 

_Bloody do something!_ He grasped the handle, then froze again. Potter was moaning softly. Severus held his breath. God. Potter’s moans became louder, more frequent, and he was muttering to himself: “Fuck— _yes_ —almost—” He groaned deep in his throat, and Severus knew what that sound meant. Potter was coming. He was orgasming, and Severus was just on the other side of the door . . .

Fuck. Fuck. He shouldn’t have heard that. He wandered back to the sitting area. He was trembling. Christ. He had to pull himself together. Potter couldn’t see him like this. He went to the fireplace and examined all the photographs on the mantel. _Be casual. Nonchalant. Friendly._

Sirius fucking Black grinned and waved at him. Severus sneered. _Of course_ Potter had a photograph of Black on his mantel. He also had a picture of his sodding father and—

Severus swerved around. He couldn’t do this. He had to leave. He wanted to fucking scream. 

He raced from the house. When he reached an alleyway, he Disapparated. 

At home he went to the kitchen. He meant to fetch his whiskey but his gaze landed on his mum’s rolling pin. It was from the 60s and a horrible yellow color. _She_ had once made biscuits with it for his birthday. His mum had showed her how to direct the pin with magic.

He grabbed the rolling bin and smashed all his mum’s ancient knick-knacks on the counter. Why did he still have this rubbish? Why, even after facing _death_ , did he still live in his parents’ home?

He smashed and smashed until a ceramic shard sliced his fingers. He cradled his hand and went to the toilet. He ran his fingers under some water and startled when he glanced up at the mirror and saw another face looking at him.

Oh. Right. He was still wearing his disguise. God, Gale was attractive. His cheeks were flushed nicely, his anger making him look sensitive. Severus still didn’t really know which way Potter leaned, but it wouldn’t be surprising if he wanted to shag Gale. Perhaps he was thinking of Gale when his hand wrapped around his hard—

“No!” Severus clutched his head, not caring that his cut burned. He refused to think about Potter in that way. He refused to think about _anyone_ in that way. _That_ was behind him. He had no feelings now. No desires. He had _transcended_ all that.

His telephone was ringing. He paused, breathing heavily. He’d forgotten his home even had a telephone. Surely it was too old to work?

It continued to ring.

He went into a dusty room attached to the kitchen. Some of his father’s belongings were still in here, and it’d been ages since Severus actually stepped foot into the room. 

The telephone was on a crowded desk next to a Muggle photograph of his grandparents. Christ.

He picked up the receiver. “Hello?”

“Gale? Can you hear me?” It was Potter.

“Yes—but how—?”

“I tried a spell . . .”

“ _You tracked me?_ ”

“No! Not really! I wanted to make sure you were all right. You just disappeared.”

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. “Potter.”

“You sound different.”

Shite. Fuck everything. His disguise was probably wearing off. The voice was always the first to go.

“It’s your disguise, isn’t it? This is your actual voice.”

Severus took a deep breath. “Yes. This is my actual voice.”

There was a pause. “You sound familiar but . . . I can’t place you.”

“I need to get off the phone.”

“The _phone_? You live in a Muggle house?”

“Fuck,” Severus muttered.

Potter laughed. “I’m not going to tell anyone.”

“It’s not about—Christ!”

“Say my name again.”

“Why?”

“Because I want you to.” Potter exhaled loudly. “Please?”

 _Don’t do it._ “Potter.”

Potter sighed. “You really do sound familiar.”

“Are you all right?” _It’s a trap. The potion disabled him and now he’s under an Imperius Curse._

“I think so . . . I think I just drank something that made me very randy . . . which would make sense.”

“You should have Ministry healers examine you just in case.”

“No, too risky.” Potter paused again. “Tell me another thing about yourself.”

“I have to go.”

“Come on . . . you don’t even have to look at me while you say it.”

Severus snorted. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Green.”

“You were a Slytherin, weren’t you?”

“I didn’t even attend Hogwarts.”

Potter laughed. “Yes you did.”

Severus went cold. There was no possible way he could know, right?

“What is your favorite potion to brew?” Potter said.

“I don’t brew potions.”

“You said it was your favorite thing to do.”

“I was lying.”

“Really?” There was a smile in Potter’s voice.

Severus paused for a very long time. He should just hang up. “ _Amortentia_.”

“Wow. Why do you like it so much?”

 _Because it smelled like her._ “It reminded me of someone I had lost.”

“Man or woman?”

“A man.” _Liar. Idiot._

“Oh.” Potter was silent for a moment. “We need to debrief. Come up with our next plan.”

“I will be at the Ministry tomorrow.”

“I’m taking the day off. You should just come over to my place.”

“No.”

“Why not?” Again, Potter sounded like he was smiling.

“Because it’s highly inappropriate.”

“So what? Just do it.”

Severus gritted his teeth. “You’ve always been able to get away with anything. Not everyone is so fortunate.” 

“Do you remember where I live?”

“Of course.” Severus shuddered. The Black home. The previous headquarters of the Order. The last place he’d ever wanted to go again.

“Just come over. I’ll be waiting for you.”

“I’m not coming.”

“Okay. Then have a good day tomorrow.”

“Go see the Healers.”

Potter laughed. “Goodnight, Gale.”

Severus hung up. He cradled his head.

*

The next day Severus appeared in front of Grimmauld Place. It was late afternoon, and he’d wasted the morning at the Ministry, flipping through the files without really reading them, trying to write up his notes about their first visit to the nightclub, but he couldn’t fucking focus. He was worried about Potter. What if the potion had unpredictable side effects? Potter could be collapsed in his home, choking on his own tongue, while Severus hid away at the Ministry.

Severus touched his face. Before leaving, he’d checked to make sure his disguise was holding. Last night’s phone call had made him paranoid. Potter made him careless in ways that he wasn’t used to. He should have never let Potter hear his real voice.

He was glad to see that the Muggle neighborhood had declined even further. There were hints of urban renewal in the surrounding areas, but businesses and city planners had so far overlooked this street.

He went to the door and raised his fist to knock. He paused. He shouldn’t be there. It was _dangerous_ for him to be there. There could still be curses aimed at him from when the Order believed him a traitor. 

He turned around. It was dumb of him to even come here. Potter had made him an idiot; he’d always found a way to get under Severus’ skin.

“Gale?”

Potter stood at the bottom of the stairs, holding a paper bag.

Fuck. “Potter.”

Potter smiled and ascended the steps. “You came.”

“I was surprised I was able to find it without you with me. I thought you had wards . . .”

“I do. I just disabled them for today.” Potter unlocked his door. “Please come in.”

They stepped into darkness. Severus cast a _Lumos_.

“Sorry. I forgot to leave a light on. Let’s go down to the kitchen.”

Severus followed hesitantly, not wanting to seem like he knew where he was going. The kitchen was just as he remembered. He almost expected to smell Molly’s cooking.

Potter produced a loaf of bread and some chocolate from the bag. “I knew you liked spicy . . .”

Severus read the tags. “Jalapeno bread and . . . dark chocolate with cayenne pepper.”

“I thought a nice pot of milky tea would sooth our taste buds,” Potter said.

“Yes.” Severus’ throat was tight. Potter had bought something with him in mind.

Potter made the tea and Severus cut up the bread. Then they sat down at the table, and Severus refused to think about all the Order meetings held there.

“So,” Severus said. “We need to figure out how we are going to learn more at the nightclub. It will probably be tricky to get anyone to open up.”

“Yes.” Potter took a sip from his tea, then nibbled on some chocolate. His fingers were nice, very nice. “We will just have to keep showing up, keep watching closely.”

Severus nodded. “We can’t do anything rash. It might take months to crack this mission.”

Potter just shook his head. He smiled. “Can you talk about something else?”

“What do you want to talk about?” Severus said carefully.

“Anything. Everything. You must want to ask me questions. Get to know me better.”

Right. Gale wouldn’t know that much of Potter. He’d be curious about the boy hero, the savior, the Chosen One.

Severus coughed. “Yes. I do have questions.”

“What do you want to know about me?”

“Why do you wear your Auror robes only when leaving the Ministry?”

Potter grinned sadly. “It’s not only when I leave the Ministry. I just like to wear them when I’m walking in a crowd of wizards and witches. They are less likely to approach me.”

“Don’t the robes just make you stick out like a sore thumb?”

“Oh, I do, but I’m also more intimidating. Without them people still see me as the Boy Who Lived. Somebody they can just take from.”

Severus snorted. “I haven’t a clue what people see in you.”

Potter grinned. “I know. That’s why I like you. You treat me normal.”

“Of course,” he muttered.

Frowning, Potter said, “I mean it! People are so wrapped up in my reputation. They meet me and I can already see them thinking about who they are going to tell that they ran into _Harry Potter_.”

“You are lonely.”

Potter looked away. “Yes, I am.”

“What about your mates? The couple.”

“You mean Hermione and Ron? They got kids. We are still very close, but it’s different now.”

Potter poured them more tea, and Severus stared at his hands, remembering quiet moaning and _“Fuck—yes.”_ He wanted to see Potter starkers. He wanted to taste the inside of his thigh.

He closed his eyes.

This couldn’t be happening again. He opened them and looked into Potter’s beautiful gaze. No, no. Please, no.

Potter looked back. They were staring at each other. Severus wasn’t an idiot. He knew what this meant. His heart was hammering. 

Potter bit his lip. “Can I ask you something that’s inappropriate?”

 _No._ “Okay.”

“You said that _Amortentia_ reminded you of a man. Does that mean you are attracted to men?”

Severus closed his eyes again. He wanted to disappear.

He shouldn’t respond. He’d let this get too far. Potter shouldn’t know _anything_ about him. Potter was half his age, a former student, and _her_ son. 

He should leave immediately. He should go to the Ministry, demand to be taken off the mission, maybe even quit the Aurors altogether. He had other talents. He could brew for money. Maybe open a shop. No, that would mean he’d have to interact with people. He imagined himself brewing in a dark lab, empty, no sound except for the bubbling of cauldrons and the rasp of his own breathing, his hair and face growing greasier, uglier, by the day. He always forgot to bathe when he was brewing, stressed, focused. He’d die in that lab, and when somebody finally found him, he’d be nothing but a greasy smear. 

He opened his eyes. “I’m attracted to both men and women.”

Potter grinned at him, and he looked almost relieved. “Me too.”

Severus couldn’t look at him. He’d already known, hadn’t he? The small clues that Potter was attracted to his disguise. He wondered who Potter had fucked. Surely not Ronald Weasley? Severus tried to remember Potter’s interactions with the other boys at Hogwarts, and he didn’t think he’d ever witnessed Potter being more than friendly with boys. But why would he? It wasn’t as if he’d been around Potter a lot back then.

“Gale?”

Severus shook his head. “Don’t.”

Potter sucked in a breath. “It doesn’t have to be anything serious. Like you said, we don’t really know each other.”

Severus laughed harshly. The irony was really too much.

“Please,” Potter said quietly. “I want you.”

Severus shuddered. Later he would put this memory in his Pensieve just to hear Potter say that again. Maybe he’d bottle the sound and cast an enchantment that allowed him to lift up the cork to hear Potter’s _I want you_.

“Please look at me.” 

Severus shuddered again, remembering what he’d said to Potter in that horrible shack, when he thought he would bleed to death. He’d only wanted to see her eyes one last time. 

He gazed at Potter and cupped his face. God. No matter how hard he looked, he couldn’t see her anymore. He only saw Harry.

“What?” Potter asked, his eyes uncertain.

“Nothing,” Severus whispered. He removed his hand. “It’s not right. You know it’s not.” 

Potter frowned. “Why is it wrong? Do you not . . . feel the same way?”

“Don’t you realize this is a disguise?” Severus said.

Potter raised his chin. “I don’t care. I want you.”

“You will never know who I truly am.”

Potter hesitated. “Not even after the mission?”

“No.” He shook his head. “It would be too dangerous.”

“I’m willing to take that risk.”

Severus laughed again. “Of course you are. Nothing bad can happen to you.”

Potter frowned. “My parents were murdered when I was a baby. During my childhood a psychopath was determined to kill me. I _died_ to save the people I loved.”

“Do you want a trophy or something?” Severus snapped. It was a cruel thing to say, but he’d heard this all before. _He_ had also made sacrifices. People just didn’t care.

Potter’s lips twitched. “This is why I like you.”

“Because I’m an arsehole?”

“Yes. You give me perspective. You ground me.”

“We’ve known each other for a few weeks.”

“Have we? There are times when I get the sense you understand more than you let on. Were you at the Final Battle?”

“No.” Severus clenched his hands. “Of course not.”

“Are you sure?” Potter placed his hand on Severus’ thigh and leaned close. “Gale. _Please._ ”

Severus stood abruptly, his chair falling over. Potter’s hand had burned. He felt it in his groin, and his desire felt deep, liquidy, overwhelming. He wanted to bleed himself. He wanted to take his cock out and stroke himself until he was coming all over Potter’s beautiful, beautiful face.

“I didn’t mean to alarm you,” Potter said.

Severus shook his head and backed away. “I need the toilet,” he said dumbly.

“Up the stairs to the left,” Potter said, frowning. God, his lips. 

Severus rushed upstairs, already knowing where he was going. He tried hard to not remember Albus’ ghost racing toward him. 

In the toilet he brushed back his fringe with a shaking hand. God. He needed to get a hold of himself. He stared at his reflection. Of course Potter wanted to shag this disguise. Gale was an attractive man. His face was everything Severus’ wasn’t: open, friendly, _tanned_. Gale looked like somebody you could have a pint with, like somebody who’d make sure to say goodbye after a one night stand. Severus scowled, and on Gale it just looked endearing. 

Fuck. He pressed his forehead to the cool glass of the mirror. Why did this keep happening to him? He wished to never feel anything remotely close to love again. He wished to reach inside his chest and _crush_ his heart into a small black thing. After the war he’d thought he had finally escaped the curse of those green eyes. He’d saved Lily’s child and in the process helped save the entire wizarding world. He deserved _peace_ , not to be overcome by this burning, obsessive, _pathetic_ love again.

He wanted to put his fist through the mirror. He wanted to scream until his vocal cords ached. Instead he splashed water on Gale’s face, took a deep breath, and went back out to Potter.

Potter was waiting for him in the dark foyer. “Are you okay?”

Severus couldn’t speak. He moved toward Potter, not really knowing what he was doing. His hands brushed against Potter’s shoulders.

Potter touched his side. “Please—”

“Shh,” Severus said. “Let me, let me.”

“Gale,” Potter whispered, and tried to kiss him.

Severus turned his face away. “Don’t.”

“I want to.” Potter’s warm mouth touched his cheek. “God, I want to.”

“Don’t speak.” Severus pressed Potter’s hands to the wall. “Don’t touch me.”

Potter arched against him. “Why not? How many times do I have to tell—”

Severus kissed him. He wanted to shut him up. He wanted to devour him. The kiss was awkward; Potter was fighting him, determined to gain some leverage. Their mouths moved hungrily together, and their teeth clashed. He tightened his hold on Potter’s wrists. _God damn you_ , he thought, and his head spun. He wasn’t just kissing Potter. He was kissing Lily. He was kissing James. He was a disgusting old man, and Potter would hate him if he knew. He’d want to _kill him_ for not revealing himself.

Severus dropped to his knees. Potter gasped. It was too dark to see his expression, but Severus could imagine: wide beautiful eyes, parted red lips, a glistening film of sweat down his neck. God, Severus wanted him.

“Gale—”

He evaded Potter’s hands. “Shh,” he repeated. “Please—just let me.” He unclasped Potter’s trousers. Thank Merlin there was no light in here. He didn’t think he’d have the nerve to go forward if he could see.

He opened his mouth against Potter’s trousers, tonguing the line of his cock. Potter felt big. Of course he was big. His cock was probably flawless. Straight, thick, the perfect length. His bollocks were probably neat with only a little hair. Severus pressed his palm against his own groin. Fuck, fuck. He didn’t even have to see it. His fantasies were enough.

“God, _yes_ ,” Potter murmured, and he thrust against Severus’ mouth without a trace of embarrassment. 

Severus couldn’t take it. He needed to _know_. He ripped down Potter’s trousers and pulled out his cock. Then his mouth was on him, urgent, frantic. Potter tasted like sweat, his pubic hair a bit musky. Finally, something that made him imperfect. Severus couldn’t get enough. He wanted to know all his smells, all his flavors. 

God. It’d been too long. He’d forgotten cocks were this soft, this warm in his mouth. He bobbed his head, sucking, slurping. Potter tried to grab his shoulders but Severus shoved his hands away.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he growled, then he was on Potter’s cock again, hoping Potter felt trapped, out of control. _You wanted this! Not me. Never me. You thought Gale would be different, kinder, gentler, well you were wrong. I’ll teach you not to be so careless, so desperate._ Potter was like an open scab, vulnerable, bleeding, waiting to be picked and picked. Severus would teach him he couldn’t afford to be weak.

Severus sucked him all the way down, his cock breaching his throat, saliva escaping his lips. Potter convulsed, his hands scraping at the wall. Severus withdrew, gasping for breath, then he was taking him down again, into his throat, sucking, tonguing. Potter was panting, writhing. 

Severus did it again and again, each time sucking harder, each time quickening his movement. He let his teeth graze Potter’s shaft, his own hands reaching around to fondle Potter’s strong arse cheeks. Fuck. Potter tried to thrust into his mouth, but Severus tightened his grip. No control. No way out. The fucking story of Severus’ life. Potter was going to know exactly what it felt like to flail, to not know what was to come, to _want_ with no hope for reciprocation.

“Gale—oh, Gale—”

 _Stop saying that name!_

He pressed a finger to Potter’s arsehole, wanting to unbalance him further, loving that he felt it twitch. Potter shuddered and blabbered something; Severus rubbed, teased, wishing he had the time to penetrate him slowly, lovingly, the lube messing the sheets, his warm, warm arse opening, clutching, straining to take his fingers deeper. 

“I can’t—” Potter’s hands thrashed in the air, needing to hold onto something. 

Severus took his mouth away. He fondled Potter’s bollocks and stroked his cock quickly. “Come for me,” he said, and his throat burned from being penetrated.

“Gale—”

“No.”

“Toby.”

Severus squeezed his bollocks. “ _Shut up._ ”

Potter gasped and arched into his hand. “Love.”

Severus shuddered. He licked at Potter’s cockhead to taste him. “Again.”

“I’m gonna come, love.”

“Fucking do it.”

Potter writhed. “But—God—”

“All over my face.” Severus leaned forward. “Give it to me.”

“I fucking love you,” Potter said, and then he groaned deeply, his cock spurting hot come on Severus’ nose, his cheeks, even a little in his hair. He thrust hard into Severus’ fist, crying out, completely overtaken by his orgasm.

Severus loved it. _He loved it._

He got to his feet and kissed Potter deeply, not waiting for him to calm down. Potter panted and moaned into his mouth, still thrusting a bit as his cock softened up. Severus wanted to come against Potter’s hand, whispering sweet, sweet sentiments, but Potter would see Gale, not him, and he couldn’t risk babbling something stupid like, “You know me, you know me.”

He kissed Potter’s chin, his cheek. He buried his nose in his neck and smelled him. Then he stepped back, and Potter gaped at him, not understanding. His glasses were crooked.

“Gale,” Potter whispered, and reached for him.

Severus stumbled away. “No, I can’t. I’m sorry.” He rushed from the house, his legs numb, his cock aching. He was always running away. Potter _terrified_ him.

*

“We need to focus on Joao Crowley,” Severus said in Potter’s office.

It was a couple of days after their passionate collision in Potter’s foyer, and Severus was very awkward. He could barely look at Potter.

“Do we know for sure he runs our nightclub?” Potter said, tipping his chair back on two legs. Since having Severus’ mouth on him, he’d been overjoyed, energetic. He even _whistled_ from time to time. He wouldn’t be happy if he actually knew who’d sucked him off.

“Robards seems to think so,” Severus said.

Potter took up Crowley’s main file. “It’s not like we have photographic evidence of him at the nightclub. We don’t really have any evidence of who runs the place.”

“Except the woman and the two men at the entrance.”

“Yes.” Potter flipped through the file. “None of them seem like they own the place, though.”

“They could be wearing a disguise.”

Potter grinned a little. “Like you.”

“Yes, like me.”

Severus stood and shouldered on his coat. It was time for their next visit to the nightclub. His stomach clenched, and his breath came a bit fast. Even though they’d spent countless hours searching through the files, had seen the place themselves, Severus felt like they knew nothing about Crowley or whoever was really behind the prostitution operation. For all they knew, Robards could be completely wrong, and the three suspects and the exploding building in Brazil had nothing to do with their mission.

It all made Severus very uneasy.

Potter sensed his tension and didn’t say anything as they made their way to the departing corridor. Before they Disapparated separately, he gave Severus a reassuring smile.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said. “We are both pros.”

Severus wanted to scoff. There had been nothing _professional_ about his demeanor up to this point in the mission. He’d been too distracted by Potter, too _obsessed_ with him, to really do his job, and now they were returning to a place where they could die and all he was really concerned about was whether or not he would have to witness Potter shag someone against their will.

They appeared at the nightclub and the same two blokes greeted them at the door. The talkative one laughed when he saw Potter.

“I heard you _ran out_ last time,” he snickered.

Potter shrugged. “Mistakes happen.” He dropped a heavy money bag into the bloke’s hand. “Four hundred. Show us right to the back room.”

“All right, gentlemen,” the bloke said, his voice all sarcasm. He ushered them through the club and tapped his wand against the same door again. Severus wondered what charm they were using. Maybe he could find a way to dismantle the charm or deceive it, so he could get through without the bloke’s help.

The woman was waiting for them at her usual spot. She wore robes of brilliant burgundy and her hair glittered with powder.

For some reason Potter took her hand and kissed it. “Madam,” he said.

This amused her a great deal. She took her hand away. “It’s not the nineteenth century anymore. Call me Nita.”

“Right, my apologies.” Potter blushed a little.

“How may we serve you tonight?” 

“We want a man this time,” Potter said.

Severus closed his eyes. God. Why did he say that?

Nita smirked. “You lot are full of surprises.” She beckoned with her finger. “Follow me, boys.”

Severus followed her, but he was thinking. Was it possible that she could be Joao Crowley in disguise?

They followed her down the same hallway, but they made a sharp left turn, and went down a darker, tighter corridor. Severus kept his head down, but he still heard some grunts and whimpers from the rooms. He didn’t know if the whimpers were welcomed or not, but he supposed not. 

She stopped, still smirking. “Right in here.” She pushed open the door with the tip of her wand. 

Severus and Potter stepped inside, and the door closed behind them. Severus quickly examined the dark corners before he looked at the bed. There was a man, luckily older than fourteen, sprawled naked on the pillows. He grinned at them with pouty lips.

“Well, hello,” he said, and snapped his fingers. Two vials appeared and floated over to them. “Please drink. It will make your experience more enjoyable.”

“No, thank you,” Potter said, laughing a little. “I learned my lesson last time.”

“I see.” The man looked at Severus. “And you? I need a man who can handle me.”

Severus shook his head. “I won’t have any, either. But I assure you that I can handle you.”

The man smiled but he seemed a bit disappointed that they both turned down the vials. “Then come over here and show me what you got.”

Severus hesitated. It would be suspicious if he refused the man, especially for how much they were paying to be with him. 

Potter stepped behind Severus and wrapped his arms around him. “No, let’s just watch him as I touch you,” Potter said, his breath hot on Severus’ neck.

Severus shivered. If this was any other moment, he would be immediately aroused, thinking of Potter’s cock in his mouth. But they were surrounded by people forced into sex work by a man who was responsible for the deaths of many Aurors. Severus had to remain focused.

Severus smirked a little. “Yes . . . I want to see his hand wrapped around his cock.”

Potter’s breath hitched. “Fuck yeah.” Severus didn’t know if he was faking it, but Potter sounded _aroused_.

“Wonderful,” the man said, and he moaned loudly when he began stroking his cock. He squirmed and panted, putting on a show. Severus felt his face freeze up, and he had to force the muscles around his mouth to relax. 

_Just breathe. It will be over soon_ , he told himself, and he was right, because the man came too quickly, and the amount of come he spurted was ridiculous.

The man snapped his fingers and his mess disappeared. He smirked. “You’ll need to pay Nita again if you want to see more.”

“Wow,” Potter said breathlessly. “We definitely will.” He took Severus’ hand and guided him from the room. Severus was confused. He didn’t want to pay Nita again. He wanted to look around a bit and then leave.

Potter pulled him out to the alleyway. Severus tried to protest but Harry put his finger to his lips. 

“Let’s just go back to my place.” Potter wrapped his arms around Severus. A moment later they disappeared with a _pop_.

At Grimmauld Place Severus pulled himself from Potter’s grasp. “We wasted a perfectly good opportunity to search for information!”

They were in the upstairs seating area again, a fire warming the gloomy room.

Potter scrubbed at his face. “We aren’t going to find anything if we keep on going into the back with ‘Nita.’ It’s obvious she controls everything.”

“How do you know that?”

“We didn’t drink anything, but that encounter with that man felt so unreal, like Nita had Charmed us or something.”

Severus tapped a finger against his mouth. “It did feel unreal but I would have known if someone placed a charm on me.”

“Are you sure?” Potter rubbed the back of his neck. “All I know is that what we are doing isn’t working. We need to come up with a different plan.”

“Yes.” Severus was trying to think hard, but Potter stood very close. His heart fluttered.

“Gale,” Potter said, his voice thick, and suddenly the air between them changed. “We are alone in my house.”

Severus backed away. “I shouldn’t have agreed to come here. I should just go back to the Ministry . . . start brainstorming our next move.”

“I can’t stop thinking about you.” Potter gulped. “What is happening back at that club is disgusting . . . but seeing that man stroke himself . . . Oh, Gale.” Potter kissed him, and Severus couldn’t help it. He just fucking _melted_. He clutched at Potter’s shoulders, trying to steady himself. They had work to do. They had spoiled another opportunity and now they were wasting time snogging.

Potter sucked on his neck, dropping his hand down to cup Severus through his trousers. “Fuck . . . I just want to get you back. You never gave me the chance.” He tried to fall to his knees but Severus stopped him.

“Fuck me,” Severus said, turning to face the wall. He wanted to feel Potter inside him. It would be safe this way. Potter would like it this way. No way would Potter want to stick his cock inside _Professor Snape_.

His disguise was beautiful. Even its arse was beautiful. Severus had checked. Potter would love his tight hole, his rippling back muscles.

Potter pressed his erection against Severus’ arse. He slipped his shaking hand inside Severus’ robes, touching his bare chest. He buried his nose in Severus’ curly brown hair. “Are you sure?” he whispered.

“Yes.”

“Let me take you to bed.”

“No.” Severus widened his legs. “Right here. Against the wall.”

“Hmm.” Potter nipped at his ear. “But I want to take my time with you. Get to know your body.”

Severus wanted to hit him. He wanted to break his fist against the wall. 

“ _No._ ” He took a deep breath. “I want you to fuck me here.”

“Fine.” Potter dropped to his knees. “But we’re going to do it my way.”

Severus rested his forehead on the wall. “Christ.”

Potter pushed up his robes and made quick work of his trousers and pants. Then his mouth was on Severus, his tongue lapping at his hole, and Severus _convulsed_.

“No, no,” Severus choked. “Please, no.”

Potter kissed up his back, his fingers now playing with his wet hole. “Let me taste you,” he whispered in Severus’ ear.

“Oh, God.”

Potter went back down, and his mouth was even more insistent, his tongue licking and drilling until Severus opened enough to be penetrated. Potter moaned loudly, his tongue wiggling, his saliva dripping down Severus’ arse.

Severus panted and clawed at the wall, unable to believe this was happening. Harry fucking Potter was eating his arse.

Potter added a finger with his tongue, curling and massaging. Then he had two fingers inside Severus, which made Severus whimper and blabber.

“Please, I need you, _please_ ,” Severus said.

Trembling, Potter cast a lube spell, then he was pushing his cock inside Severus, and they both groaned loudly.

Severus braced himself against the wall. “Fuck me,” he said, and Potter complied, fucking hard into him, his arse clinging to his cock, his fingers biting into Severus’ hips.

“Merlin,” Potter moaned, and ploughed into him even harder. He reached around to stroke Severus’ cock, and Severus came suddenly, his hips thrusting wildly into Potter’s fist. He clenched hard, which made Potter whimper and bite into his shoulder. He was emptying himself inside Severus, and Severus felt some of his warm semen drip from him.

They slid to the floor. Potter cast a cushioning charm and pulled Severus into his arms. Severus was exhausted, too weak to keep his eyes open. 

Severus woke up a little later. Potter was cradling him.

“Let me in,” Potter whispered. “I promise I won’t hurt you.”

Severus woke up fully. He shifted from Potter’s embrace and spelled on his clothes. 

“That was fun,” he said, not really looking at Potter.

Potter crawled to his feet. “Stay the night. You don’t need to rush off.”

“No, thank you.” Severus went to the fireplace. His hand was shaking when he dug for some Floo powder. 

“Please . . . don’t leave.” Potter stood in front of him naked, his skin golden in the firelight. Severus finally got a good look at his cock, and it was perfect, utterly perfect. It hung long, and neat, and he knew what it felt like inside him. Severus gulped thickly.

“I can’t stay . . . I have many things . . .” He stepped into the Floo and a moment later he was gone. 

He tumbled out into his cold lounge. He fell to his knees, sobbing. He always became hysterical when he was alone. He couldn’t help it. He did so much hiding around other people that it was impossible to control his emotions when he had privacy.

He cried out and beat his fists on the floor. He felt _disgusting_. He ripped off his robes, his under things. His arse was sore, wetness collecting between his cheeks. He rolled to his back and shoved two fingers in his arse, hating how easily they slid inside. He pulled out and sucked them clean, imagining he could still taste Potter. His cock was hardening again, and he hated it. He put his fingers back inside and tugged roughly on his shaft. He wanted to hurt himself. He worked a third finger in his arse, and he was now too dry. He thrust hard, welcoming the burn. He sped up his stroking, his hand twisting roughly at the head.

“Harry,” he cried, and shoved his fingers deeper, imagining he was drawing blood. “Harry, Harry, _Harry_.”

He saw it perfectly: Harry kissing his forehead, his cheeks. Harry lapping at his navel, massaging his thighs. Harry tonguing his little tits, then working up to gnaw worshipfully at his neck. 

Then the Chosen One, with his brilliant green eyes and pure smile, his enormous heart and ridiculous luck, would kiss him on the mouth and whisper: “Severus.” 

Severus was coming, he was coming so fucking hard, and his head felt like it would explode. He was yelling, his harsh strokes tearing his orgasm from him, and for a brief, wonderful moment he thought he might die.

*

“I don’t understand why this nightclub is so popular.” Potter frowned down at his cocktail. “The drinks aren’t good, the music hurts my ears.”

They were having another go at the club, this time opting to stay at the bar and dancefloor. The plan was to survey the exits and closely watch the employees, hoping in the process to spot Crowley. Severus was also looking for any sign of charms. He was determined to remain focused, even though his arse still hurt from Potter shagging him.

“The patrons aren’t here for the music and drinks,” Severus said. 

Potter’s frown deepened. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

They moved about the room. Strangely, Nita had ventured out from the back, and she watched as a few of the younger girls milled about the dancefloor. Her eyes seemed a bit worried.

Severus had an idea. Nita. The vials. Maybe she was doing everything in her power to prevent the workers from actually having sex with clients. She probably told Crowley that the vials contained an enhancer, but really it made people too sick or aroused to go through with the deed. 

“I need to talk to you,” Severus whispered.

Potter frowned again. “Where?”

He pulled Potter to the toilet, making sure to keep his head down. He kicked the door closed behind them.

He took out his wand, wanting to cast a silencing charm, but then reconsidered it. Crowley probably kept track of what spells were cast inside the building.

“What is it?” Potter’s worried eyes searched his face.

“Nita,” Severus whispered, “I think she is trying to help the sex workers.”

Potter frowned, thinking. “With the vials?”

“Yes.” Severus stepped close, his voice dropping even lower. “I think you were supposed to have a bad reaction to the potion.”

“Yeah . . . but why would she take the chance?”

“I don’t know.”

Potter’s gaze hardened. “We have to get her out of here. We have to get them all out of here.”

“Yes.” Severus’s mind whirled. “But she should be the first. She could help us save the others.”

Potter was silent for a while. “Good idea . . . but how are we going to get her out?”

“I don’t know. Not yet.”

Groaning, Potter said, “I hate all this hesitation. I just want to _do something_.”

Severus grabbed his shoulder. “We can’t do anything rash.”

“Yes, I know. You don’t need to keep saying that.” Potter moved from his grasp. “I’m going back out before they get suspicious.”

“They will expect us to pay for another prostitute,” Severus said, flinching. 

“Yeah.” Potter wasn’t really listening. He left the toilet.

“Fuck, fuck,” Severus muttered. He knew Potter was about to do something reckless, knew it deep in his gut. He hurried after Potter, his hand curling around his hidden wand. 

He turned in place, blinking. Potter was nowhere in sight. God dammit! He rushed back to the dancefloor, searching around heads, his heart thudding.

He pushed past people, knowing he shouldn’t draw too much attention to himself, but he was panicking. He was panicking in a way that Potter could only make him do. Horrible images flashed in his mind—Potter convulsing on the ground, overcome by some terrible curse, or bleeding out quickly, blood seeping through his trembling fingers, as Severus’ blood had done in the shack. 

Then he caught sight of Potter, and went cold. Potter was talking in the corner with Nita, and she was still smirking at him, her eyes dark, glittery, _cold_. He saw something in her expression, something that made him think of Joao Crowley, and he pulled out his wand, filtering through protection spells, unable to decide which one—

There was an explosion. Severus was only aware of a heat on his face, and suddenly he was not standing anymore. 

He woke up. He had no idea that he’d even lost consciousness. He tried to sit up, but his head felt open and swaying, like a sloshing bowl of water. There was screaming.

Somehow he made it to his feet. His face itched with dust and he tasted blood. He stumbled over legs, his eyes burning. There was a hole in the ceiling, the cold night air falling down on them. He hit himself with a shaky _Scourgify_. He blinked, finally able to see clearly.

Potter sat against a wall. He was missing his left arm.

Severus didn’t understand what he was seeing. He was mistaken. It was just a bloke who looked like Potter.

He hurried forward and nearly dropped his wand. He barely felt anything. Potter was trying to stop the bleeding, his hand fumbling over his stump. His face was very pale.

“Harry,” Severus said, and it was like he had no insides. He was empty of everything, including breath.

Potter looked up at him, his eyes wide in shock. “ _Snape?_ ”

Severus fell to his knees. He Vanished Potter’s sleeve. There was so much blood, and his mind whirled, and whirled, unable to stop on one thought.

“Snape—I’m hurt—”

“Yes, I know.” Severus needed to get him to hospital. Maybe his arm was salvageable if he found the limb. “Your arm?”

Potter shook his head a little, his eyes rolling back. Severus helped him to his feet. Potter cried out.

“I know, I know,” Severus said, and stupidly, inconceivably, he kissed Potter’s temple. 

Potter jerked away. “What—?”

“Hold on, I’m going to Apparate us to St Mungo’s.”

“Okay,” Potter said, his voice weaker. 

Cradling Potter close, he concentrated with all his effort, and spun them as gently as he could. They Disapparated.

At St Mungo’s Severus yelled for someone to help them. Mediwizards rushed over and levitated Potter to a floating gurney.

One of them exclaimed. “This is _Harry Potter_.”

Severus finally understood. Somehow the explosion had dissolved their disguises. He thought of the other victims back at the nightclub.

“Take care of him,” Severus said, and he wished he could kiss Potter again before he was rushed out of sight. 

“We will,” one of them said. They disappeared with Potter behind locked double doors.

“Sir?” The receptionist touched his arm.

Severus flinched. “What?”

“Who should we Floo?”

He blinked. Oh. “Molly Weasley,” he answered, as if Potter was still underage and needed a guardian present. “I can do it. Do you have a visitor’s Floo?”

“Yes,” she said kindly. “Follow me.” She took him into a back office and threw the Floo powder into the fireplace for him.

“The Burrow,” he said, his voice high, and stuck his head into the green flames. He was taking a chance contacting someone outside the Ministry first, but he wanted Potter to have his loved ones at his side.

Molly answered his Floo and blinked in shock. “Severus Snape?”

“It’s Potter. He’s been injured. Please come to St Mungo’s as soon as possible.”

“My God,” she said, clutching her chest. “Is it serious?”

“Yes. Please just come. I can’t say much more.”

She nodded, her face taking on color. “Thank you, Severus. We will be there.”

“Good.” He pulled his head from the fireplace. He threw in more powder and called, “Department of Magical Law Enforcement!” He inserted his head and found himself floating in darkness.

“State your purpose,” said a pleasant female voice.

“I’m Severus Snape, Secret Auror, and I need to speak to Gawain Robards. It’s an emergency.” 

“Password please.”

“Amortentia.” 

“Password accepted. One moment please.”

The darkness ended and the candlelight of Robards’ office made him blink.

“What happened?” Robards said sternly.

“There was an explosion—”

Robards cursed. “Where is Potter?”

“St Mungo’s. He was injured. There are other victims.”

“We will send units to the nightclub. Do you know the whereabouts of Crowley?”

“No.” He gulped, unsure if he should share his suspicions about Nita being Crowley. He decided not to say anything. If he was wrong, he didn’t want to set the Aurors up for failure. “The first responders need to be incredibly careful.”

“They’re aware.” Robards blared a little. “What happened to your disguise? Did you reveal yourself?”

“The explosion. I fell unconscious and when I woke up both of our disguises were gone.”

“Merlin.” Robards ground his teeth. “This is a terrible mess. Do you know how long you were out?”

“It had to be only seconds . . . maybe a few minutes.”

“ _Maybe?_ ”

“I can’t be sure.” God, his head was killing him. He had to get a mediwizard to look him over too.

“You have been compromised. You know what this means.”

“Yes, I do.” Severus rubbed his temples. He couldn’t say that he was particularly sad about it. He just wanted Potter to be okay.

“Get yourself checked out. Don’t talk to anyone. Then get home.”

“Yes.” Severus pulled his head from the fireplace and nearly fell over. He weakly got to his feet.

“I will call a mediwizard to have a look at you,” said the receptionist.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

A few minutes later he found himself in an examination room. A young mediwitch waved her wand over his head.

“Yeah, you have a concussion,” she said.

“Great,” he muttered. This day was getting better and better.

“I can give you a potion but it will put you to sleep for a few hours.”

His gaze darted to the door. So much could happen in a few hours. He could wake up and find out that Potter had died.

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?” She sighed. “We are all thinking about him.”

He gulped. “Are you talking about Harry Potter?”

“Yeah . . . nobody really knows what will come of it.”

He fell back, no longer able to keep his head up. Blackness licked at his vision. 

“Yes, lie down. You need to rest. I will get you the potion.”

He closed his eyes. At some point he knew that she tipped the potion into his mouth but he was too disoriented to know when. Time slipped away from him.

When he woke up he felt weak from head to toe. It took him a few minutes to raise himself up. The mediwitch entered the room.

“How are you—”

“Potter. Is he all right?”

She frowned. “You didn’t hear this from me, but he’s in recovery. They weren’t able to save his arm.”

He blinked. “Surely there are spells?”

“There are. We usually give patients time to decide how they want us to help them after they lose a limb.”

“Right.” He stumbled to his feet and had to clutch at the bed. “I need a cane.”

“You absolutely cannot Apparate right now,” she said.

He shrugged. “I’ll take the Floo. Will you supply me a cane or do I need to Conjure one up?”

Shaking her head, she waved her wand and a cane scurried from the cupboard. Plucking it from the air, he leaned on it thankfully.

“Go home _to bed_ ,” she said.

“Yes.” He left the room and hobbled down the corridor. Where did they have Potter holed up? By chance he caught sight of flaming red hair and knew it had to be a Weasley. He tried to move faster but his legs were trembling too much.

He turned a corner and discovered that he’d been following Ginny Weasley. He scowled and slowed his steps. She slipped into a room. He came closer and peered through the window on the door. Potter was propped up in bed, his stump in a sling. Severus exhaled. Thank god he was okay.

Severus reached for the doorknob but stopped. He didn’t belong in there. He remembered how awkward the Order meetings had been surrounded by countless Weasleys and Potter’s snot-nosed mates. He spotted Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley in the corner. He couldn’t possibly talk to them.

No. Potter didn’t want him there. Potter wanted _Gale_. Severus stepped back, something terrible churning inside him. He made a noise in his throat. No. He needed to control himself. He needed to take himself home.

He jerked around and hobbled back to the entrance. His lips trembled. He would not cry in public. He’d show absolutely no emotion.

He found the receptionist again and she directed him to the public Floo for travel. When he found the fireplace he stared into the cracking flames. He stepped closer and held out his hand. He wondered what it would feel like to burn to death. He imagined the end of his robes catching and allowing the flames to surge up until no extinguishing spell could save him.

Instead he threw in a handful of powder and stepped into the fireplace only after the flames turned green. 

At home he went to his bed. He thought he would collapse, shriek, perhaps claw at himself, but he just lay very still.

*

A month passed. Severus rarely left his home. He found out in the _Prophet_ that Joao Crowley’s body had been found at the scene of the explosion. He also found out that Potter had opted for a magical prosthetic.

He thought of Potter nonstop. He paced his home, wringing his hands, reviewing every conversation, every look. He clutched at his face, remembering Potter’s shocked expression. _“Snape?”_ Did he know? God, he must. It was probably why he hadn’t come looking for Gale.

Severus was such a bloody fool. He was _pathetic_. He’d called Potter _Harry_. He’d let Potter _inside him_. What had he been thinking?

Idiot!

He dreamt of Potter. So many strange situations. Sometimes he’d walk up to the Headmaster’s office and find Potter sitting behind the desk. “I’ve been waiting for you,” Potter would say. 

Sometimes they’d eat soup together. Severus would slurp and slurp, and look up to find Potter covered in maggots. Potter would grin sadly. “They won’t go away,” he’d say. “My mum tells me she has the same problem.”

In the mornings he’d wake up mid-conversation. He’d jump from bed, angry or indignant or desperate. “I told you it was dangerous! I told you not to do it!” he’d say to the empty air. “ _‘I want you’_ ,” he’d sneer. “You practically begged me! You _forced_ me to do it!”

But even alone he knew his excuses were pitiful. God. He was just so _embarrassed_. Sometimes he thought he’d rather die than see Potter again. Sometimes he was so desperate to be close to him that he went to his Pensieve and pulled out his memories to watch. This only hurt him more. He saw just how lovely Gale was, how Potter had sneaked glances at him those first days reading all the files. He saw how Potter’s gaze had turned hungry, desperate, as they grew closer.

God. Oh, God. He was pathetic. Potter would never want to shag him. Potter was _too good_ for him. Even if they’d been the same age, Potter would’ve been out of his league. But Severus had two decades on him. Severus was old and ugly, while Potter was . . . perfect. Utterly perfect.

Severus yanked his head from the Pensieve. Tears streamed down his face. He went to the latest _Prophet_ to find a photograph of Potter. He was in his Auror robes and waving his leather prosthetic arm. He grinned and his eyes sparkled behind his glasses. 

He fell into a chair and stared hungrily at Potter’s face. “Harry,” he whispered.

*

One cold Saturday morning someone knocked on his door. He took out his wand, ready to curse whoever had disturbed him. He threw open the door, glaring into the light.

Harry stood in his doorway. _Potter_ , he corrected himself, then realized it was a useless battle.

“Hello,” Harry said awkwardly.

Severus blinked at him. He stood back and held open the door.

Harry frowned. “Are you inviting me in?”

“Yes,” he whispered.

“Okay.” Harry inched past and seemed to make sure not to brush Severus. 

Severus closed the door and crossed his arms. He felt incredibly vulnerable and had no idea what to say. He knew he had to apologize but he was frightened.

“How’s your arm?” Severus asked.

Harry held up his prosthetic and wiggled its leather fingers. “It’s fine. Feels like my actual hand.”

“Are you in pain?” 

“No, not really.” Harry gazed around. “Is this your childhood home?”

“Yes.”

“Did my mum ever come here?”

Severus’ stomach lurched. “A few times.”

“Oh.” Harry seemed unable to really look at him. He glanced at Severus, but then his gaze darted away. He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Look, Snape. I need to talk to you.”

“Yes, and I need to talk to you.” He wanted to offer Harry some tea or coffee, but then he thought about all the newspapers on his kitchen table. Harry would surely spot all the photographs of himself.

“That’s good,” Harry said carefully. “I’ve done my best to assume best intentions, but I really can’t wrap my head around why you . . . um . . . you did it.”

“I told you it was wrong.” Severus wanted to disappear through the floor.

“You say that but you still did it.” Harry glared. “You should have told me before we shagged. Given me the choice.”

Severus took a deep breath. “You are right. It was a violation. You were attracted to Gale, not me.”

Harry flinched and turned away. Severus wanted to go to him, but he knew he would only disgust Harry further. 

“I’m sorry,” Severus said. “I know a simple apology can’t make it better, but I promise to stay away from you. Maybe I could invent a potion that would harmlessly wipe your memory of me.” He was already thinking about the ingredients he’d possibly need.

“No, I don’t want you to do that.” Harry turned back to him, his expression unreadable. 

Severus frowned but didn’t respond. Harry began to pace. 

“Never in my wildest dreams did I think you would want to shag me. It’s all such a shock,” Harry said.

Severus looked down at his boots.

“You are so . . . _mean_. And you are obsessed with my dead mum.”

Severus gritted his teeth. He wanted to die. He wanted to not fucking exist.

“Is that what made you want to shag me? The thought of getting that much closer to her?”

“No,” Severus said softly. 

“Then why did you do it? I threw myself at you and you could have easily turned me down. Made up a story about a wife and kids. Anything.”

Harry had come closer, but Severus couldn’t look at him. He wanted to say: _I don’t know_ or _I was bored and lonely, it was nothing personal_. Instead he said the one thing he shouldn’t: “I did it because I want you.”

“Bollocks. You have hated me for my entire life.”

“No, not really. My feelings for you have always been complicated.”

Harry was quiet for a moment. “Are you saying you wanted to shag me when I was at school?”

“No!” Severus covered his face. “I hated you but I also worried about you. I wanted to keep you safe but I also thought you were the most infuriating, bigheaded child I had ever met. But all of that was _before_.” He removed his hands and glanced at Harry, seeing only burning eyes and a clenched jaw. “You’re different now. You’ve grown up. _I’ve_ changed. You propositioned me and I wanted you too much to turn you down.”

“I should hate you,” Harry said. “I should want to curse you within an inch of your life.”

Severus wanted to become hysterical. He wanted to yell: _Do it! Kill me! Make this all end!_ He was tired, so very tired. He didn’t want to pretend anymore. He didn’t want to hide anymore. He wanted to just speak the damn truth for once.

He sat down heavily in a chair. He covered his face again. “I’m an ugly, old man. You would never want to be intimate with someone like me. I knew this and still I had sex with you. Again, I’m terribly sorry.”

Harry didn’t speak for a long while. He moved about the room, but Severus didn’t look at him. 

“Did you like being around me?” Harry said finally.

“I don’t understand.”

Sighing, he said, “Did you enjoy our conversations or did you merely put up with me because you knew I was interested in you sexually?”

“Of course I enjoyed talking to you. You made me _laugh_.”

“You didn’t think I was stupid or impatient or naïve?”

“Of course I thought you were all of those things. I also thought you were charming, caring, incredibly powerful.” He was gulping down air.

“God,” Harry said.

Severus peered up at him. His face had softened and he was looking at Severus in a way that made his stomach squirm. 

“Can I pay you a proper visit sometime? Maybe we can have our tea together? Talk without hiding behind disguises?”

Severus couldn’t feel his mouth. He nodded.

“All right. It’s a plan.” Harry didn’t smile. He left.

It was only long after, when Severus was making himself dinner, that he realized he’d forgotten to ask Harry about the mission. Did they ever find out if Nita really was Crowley? He thought about reaching out to Robards, but then remembered Robards’ glare, his cold dismissal of Severus, and thought _fuck it_.

*

Harry came back the following week. Severus opened the door and found him smiling and holding a plastic bag.

“I brought Pho,” he said, raising the bag.

Severus smiled. “Thank you.” He directed Harry inside and tried to calm his nerves. They went to the kitchen, which was clean and free from any embarrassing newspaper articles about Harry. 

Harry served them their Pho and Severus grabbed some spoons and forks. They ate quietly, and it was only after Harry had finished his bowl that Severus wiped his mouth and asked, “Did you ever find out about Nita or how many people died?”

Looking away, Harry took a deep breath. “Luckily, only a few died. Since you’re not part of the Aurors anymore, I can’t really go into a lot of detail, but they say the explosive malfunctioned. They think that’s how you were able to survive.”

“Wonderful,” Severus said.

Harry smiled a little. “They never found the body of Nita, so everyone’s hunch is that she really was Crowley in disguise. I don’t know. I’m not proud at how I muddled it all up. I was too distracted by you to really see that Nita was the danger all along.”

“We couldn’t have known,” Severus said. “That mission should have been months long. The department should have equipped us better.”

“Yes, I guess.” Harry sighed deeply. “The other two criminals are still out there. My only hope is that they remain in Brazil.”

“And the vials? Did you ever find out what was actually in them?”

“Just an everyday enhancer. Like we thought. We’ve interviewed some of the survivors, but they seem to not know the purpose either. They were just told to give the potion to customers.” He sighed again. “There are still so many unanswered questions and I doubt I will ever find out the truth.” 

“Being an Auror is a frustrating business,” Severus said.

Harry grinned. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He bit his lip and suddenly looked shy. “Severus, we need to have another chat.”

Severus stood to collect their rubbish and dirty utensils. His heart was racing. “Yes, but first let me just wash up quickly.” They both knew he was delaying.

After spending more time than necessary at the sink, he dried his hands and found Harry in the dusty room off the kitchen. He was holding a photograph of Severus’ father. On the back his mother had written: _Tobias_.

“No wonder you didn’t like being called Toby,” Harry said. 

Severus shrugged. “I didn’t really care.”

“You cared during sex.”

Severus held his gaze. “That’s different.”

“Yeah, I guess it is.” Harry put the photograph down and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “I don’t really know why I’m here.”

Severus was silent. That was not what he wanted to hear from Harry. He glanced down at his black robes, feeling a bit ridiculous surrounded by Muggle things and a young man clad in a jumper and tight jeans. 

“Do you ever wear Muggle clothes?” Sometimes Harry had a strange way of reading his thoughts.

“No.”

Harry was eyeing him. “Strangely, I know a lot about what you have worn. I saw you in your smock as a child. I saw your dirty underpants as a teenager. I even saw you in your nightshirt when I was sneaking around during fourth year.”

Severus shook his head. “I knew you were always out of bed.”

“Not _always_.” Harry grinned at him, his eyes glittering. 

“You used to never smile at me. Now it seems like that’s all you do.”

Harry shrugged. “I guess it’s because . . . I’m happy when I’m around you.”

“I thought you only smiled at me because my disguise was just so damn sexy.”

Harry sighed. “Yes, Gale _was_ quite fit.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint.”

“You don’t disappoint me,” Harry said quietly. He took a deep breath. “I’ve been struggling with some thoughts lately. I want to talk to you about it, but I don’t know if I have the words.”

Severus became very still. Whatever Harry said, it would be okay. He’d lived without Harry before and he would do it again.

Harry sat down in a chair. Severus couldn’t bring himself to sit as well, even though his knees felt very weak.

“When we first met, I was immediately drawn to Gale. I know you think it was just because I wanted to shag him, but it wasn’t like that. He calmed me. I had no idea who he was, but I wanted to be around him, I wanted to get to know him. I don’t really have the words to explain why.”

Severus did his best to remain steady on his feet.

“I thought a lot about you after the war,” Harry said. “Seeing all your secrets, how brave you’d been, how much you loved my mum, was a huge shock. I don’t know. I wanted to seek you out but I didn’t trust it. I couldn’t decide if you saved me all those times because you cared about me or only because it was for my mum.”

“I did all of it for you,” Severus said, and his voice was a croak. He cleared his throat. “I believed in you. I wanted to protect you.”

Harry exhaled loudly. “I’d never thought of you as like a . . . sexual being. I’d never considered you anything other than a cruel man who was desperate to be with my mum. I just can’t wrap my head around that we’ve shagged.” He looked into Severus’ eyes. “I can’t believe I’ve been inside you.”

Severus felt himself getting a little hard. It was ridiculous and ill-timed, but Harry was beautiful and strong and so incredibly sexy, and Severus remembered what his cock felt like sliding deep into him. God, he wanted to drop to his knees. He wanted to _beg_ Harry. Just one more time. That was all he asked.

“Severus,” Harry said quietly. “I can’t stop wondering what it would be like. You and me. Without the disguise.”

“I’m ugly,” he said, because self-destruction would always feel safe.

Harry still stared into his eyes. “I think about you when I wank.” He licked his lips. “Since I found out you were Gale. I remember how . . . desperate you were, how I came all over your face, and then I think about what it’d be like to come all over _Professor Snape’s_ face, and it’s like . . . it’s like I can’t breathe.”

Severus moaned softly. He stepped closer, his heart thudding. “I’m not a young man. I know what I want.”

Harry smirked a little. “And what do you want?”

He pulled out his wand and dragged it up Harry’s neck to lift his chin. “I’m not sure you can handle what I want.”

“I can handle anything.” His eyes were lidded.

“I can be dirty, so incredibly dirty,” Severus said, breathless. A few sparks erupted from his wand.

Harry jerked back, gasping. His chin was red from the sparks. His chest moved very quickly. “Please . . . I need to know. Do whatever you want with me.”

Severus had to press his hand against his cock. He could barely think. He wanted to tie Harry to the chair. He wanted to drop to his knees and worship every inch of his body using only his mouth. He wanted to use a vibrating toy to open Harry up, get him panting, squirming, _desperate_ , then leave the toy in as he rode his cock, hot, wet, faster and faster, until the overwhelming pleasure made Harry _cry_.

Maybe, just maybe, all of that could come later. He leaned down and licked at Harry’s chin, wanting to soothe the burn. Harry moaned softly. He kissed Harry, and strangely their mouths fit together. The kiss began leisurely, comfortably, but then Harry surged forward, and it morphed into something wet and desperate.

 _Oh, Harry_ , Severus thought, and pulled him to his feet. He wrapped his arms around Harry, and Harry kneaded his arse. 

“You liar,” Harry whispered against his lips. “You should have just fucking told me.”

“I know.” Severus reached down to squeeze Harry’s cock through his trousers. “I thought you were too beautiful to want me.”

“You’ve always been so ridiculous.” Harry pushed his head to the side to gnaw and lick at his neck. 

“Fuck, Harry,” he moaned, and clutched at his back. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I know I don’t deserve this.”

Harry captured his lips in another kiss. “You’ve sacrificed so much and it’s about time I say thank you.” He dropped to his knees.

Severus laughed. “It’s what I always wanted—a Potter on his knees.”

Smirking, Harry said, “I’m not humiliated.”

“God, you’re not.” Severus buried his hands in his hair, feeling the soft strands. Harry took off his glasses and tugged on Severus’ robes.

“Get all of this off. I want to see you naked.”

“You do it,” Severus said, hoping that Harry understood why he wanted it.

“All right.” Harry got to his feet. He slowly unbuttoned Severus’ robes, his hands shaking. He pushed his robes to the floor and sucked on his neck as he undid the shirt underneath. When Severus’ nipples were revealed, he kissed down Severus’ chest to take each nub into his warm mouth. Severus moaned and swayed a little. Feeling Harry’s wet tongue made his cock ache and he fumbled desperately at his trousers, wanting so much more.

Then Harry ran his mouth along his left arm, his tongue lapping at Severus’ faded Dark Mark. Severus shuddered and whined, unable to handle what he was seeing.

Harry went back down to his knees. He yanked down his trousers and pants, and buried his nose into Severus’ groin, moaning loudly.

“Merlin, your cock.” He kissed up the shaft and then took the tip into his mouth, staring up at Severus.

“Harry,” he whispered, unable to look away from Harry’s eyes. He caressed Harry’s cheek, down his neck. “More. Please, more.”

Harry grinned a little and closed his eyes, taking Severus as deeply as possible. Severus cried out. He was trembling, not wanting to thrust and hurt Harry.

Harry drew back and stroked him. “Fuck my mouth. I want you to. Give me all that you got.”

Severus forced him back down, his touch still gentle, and he thrust shallowly. Harry groaned and pushed his hands away. He swallowed down Severus’ cock, bobbing quickly, and he coughed and gagged but didn’t stop. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Severus panted.

“You’re not going to break me,” Harry said, and swallowed down his cock again and again. Then he was mouthing Severus’ bollocks, his breathing harsh, and Severus thought he might faint.

Harry drooled on his cock and stroked him quickly, his mouth sinking hotly on his shaft again. Severus’ knees quaked, a hot buzz filling his head. He was on the brink.

“Harry—love,” he whined. “I’m c-close.”

Harry quickened his bobbing, his slurping, his tongue doing its best to massage. Severus came, moaning loudly, and he had to dig his fingers into Harry’s hair to steady himself, because the pleasure nearly cut his legs from under him.

Getting to his feet, Harry held Severus close and kissed him. Severus groaned, tasting himself on his mouth. 

“Take me to bed,” Harry whispered.

If Severus was a younger man, he’d scoop Harry into his arms, but he settled with grabbing his hand and guiding him upstairs to the bedroom he’d had since he was child. Harry paused in the doorway, peering around at the flaking wallpaper, the old metal bed.

“Wow,” he said.

Severus kissed him, not wanting to talk about this house. He lay down on the bed and pulled Harry on top of him. “Please,” he whispered, tugging at Harry’s clothes.

“God, Snape,” Harry said, shivering when Severus got his hand underneath his jumper. Together they pulled off his clothes, and Severus mouthed over his strong shoulders, down to his warm stomach. He kissed and caressed the pink skin where Harry’s arm met his prosthetic. 

“I need you,” Severus said, and turned his face away, embarrassed by his own honesty. 

“Yes, okay.” Harry Conjured up some lube and pressed his finger inside Severus. 

Severus shuddered and widened his thighs. He gritted his teeth, welcoming the pain, but knowing he’d start blabbering if he didn’t watch himself.

“Is this all right?” Harry asked, his eyes very bright.

Severus nodded. “More,” he whispered. Harry added a second finger, frowning in concentration. He thrust in and out, so gently, almost lovingly. Severus whimpered and grasped Harry’s wrist. “ _More_.”

Harry added a third finger, and Severus hissed. “Don’t stop.” Harry sped up his thrusting, his gaze glued to Severus’ face. He kissed Severus deeply, and Severus cried into his mouth when he brushed against his prostate.

“Fuck me,” Severus said, arching up.

“Yes.” Harry withdrew his fingers and Conjured up more lube to slick up his cock. Then he was rocking into Severus, slowly, oh so carefully. They both moaned when he thrust all the way in. “Severus,” he choked and kissed him sloppily.

Severus clawed at his back. “Give it to me fast. _Hurt me._ ”

But Harry didn’t move quickly. He went slowly, taking his time to kiss Severus between each thrust. Severus squirmed, trying to hide his face. Tears stung his eyes. 

“Please look at me,” Harry whispered.

Severus did so, tears wetting his hairline. He stared into Harry’s eyes. “I l-love you.”

Harry moaned and thrust deeper, his back arching up. “Severus.”

“S-stop,” he said, trying to hide again. He was mortified. He felt as if Harry was splitting him wide open.

“Severus,” Harry repeated, and pushed Severus’ legs up. He finally sped up, their flesh smacking together, and Harry grunted with the effort. The old bed creaked horribly, and Severus vaguely wondered if it would collapse.

“Touch yourself. I want to see it.”

Severus wrapped his hand around his cock, tugging desperately, his toes curling. 

“Are you going to come for me?” Harry asked, and thrust hard enough that his knees slipped on the faded sheets. The new angle made his cock brush over Severus’ prostate.

“Yes!” Severus cried, his head filling with white noise. He was coming, spilling over his fist, his stomach clenched against the pleasure. It felt like something deep and cold was yanked from him, leaving him empty, open, ready to be filled with nothing but light.

Distantly, he knew Harry was coming too, his hips jerking through his orgasm, but Severus was not fully conscious, his mouth hanging open. He slept and when he woke up he was warm and cradled in Harry’s arms.

“Harry,” he said sleepily. “I’m sorry.”

“Shh.” Harry kissed him. “I know. No more apologizing.”

Severus clung to him. “Please stay.”

“I will,” Harry said.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment here or at [Livejournal](https://snape-potter.livejournal.com/3771499.html), [Insanejournal](http://asylums.insanejournal.com/snape_potter/1706176.html), or [Dreamwidth](https://snape-potter.dreamwidth.org/1016577.html).


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